


i've been waiting (all this time to finally say it)

by cablewires



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Romance, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cablewires/pseuds/cablewires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Tony knows is that he likes Rogers' <i>smile</i>. </p><p>But then Rogers screws it all up with his new <i>muscles</i>, and now it's all complicated, and Tony's trying, he is, but everything always goes to shit somehow. </p><p>Misunderstandings and awkward romances. Welcome to high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> AKA me trying to fit as many high school AU prompts as I can in one fic because alksdjflsdkf _these prompts are so cute_. Haha. Since this chapter is a prologue of sorts, there are no prompt fills for it.
> 
> Title from One Direction's _Loved You First_. Because I'm not even going to try and be subtle about it.

“Oh, shit, I’m so fucking late, oh my _god_ –”

Tony liked to imagine he left a comical blur behind him as he zipped past what felt like the whole student population in the corridor of SHIELD High School. People were already starting to go to their first-period classrooms, but Tony had English for first period and it was all the way on the other end of campus. He’d woken up late that morning since he’d been up all night, anxious about the day’s events and what could go wrong (in a word: everything), and worrying about seeing all the familiar faces from elementary – well, one familiar face in particular. But anyway.

Tony forced those thoughts to the back of his mind and ran through corridor after corridor, his bag a consistent rhythm of thuds against his back. People were shouting at him at varying levels of crassness to slow the fuck down and look where he’s going. God, this was not going to be a good day.

He’d almost made it in time, except, of course, he didn’t because let’s face it: he’s Tony Stark. The universe has it out for him. True enough, just as he turned the last corner, he hit something very warm and _very_ solid, colliding with such impact that he actually fell on the floor.

“What the _fuck_ even –” he started angrily, just as the person he bumped into started saying, “Shit, sorry, are you okay?”

He looked up, and he _really_ should have known better, because his day was already going so badly and it wasn’t even first period yet, and now – _now_ , nothing can possibly rid this day of its innate awfulness. Tony sat on the floor, frozen, wondering what _evil_ he could have possibly done to deserve this. What level of hell did he have to be in to not only run into _Steve goddamn Rogers_ , the face he was most anxious to see and generally the bane of his existence, but Steve goddamn Rogers _who apparently shot up ten inches and looked like he'd injected some sort of super serum into himself_ , because what the _fuck_.

Christ, but _he got hot._

 _Well_ , Tony thought, hearing his mental voice going a pitch higher, _he’s always been hot_. But this was something else entirely. To be honest, Tony wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his stupid blue eyes and his stupid hair with its stupid old-timey part. Stupid Steve and his stupid part.

And, really, stupid Tony for thinking it was just a crush, just a little thing he could distract himself and move on from during summer. Stupid Tony for working out himself, for training and even being proud of the muscle he’d put on, naively thinking it might help his chances with Rogers. It was stupid of him to assume Rogers couldn’t one up him even with something like that. Tony’s not wrong very often, but he is, unfortunately, always wrong when it counts.

Tony closed his mouth. That was a start. At least he didn’t look like a fish out of water.

Rogers looked almost as surprised as Tony felt. He looked Tony up and down, and visibly gulped… for some reason. God, even his Adam’s apple filled out. Tony tried not to think about it too much.

“You okay, Stark?” He held out a hand to help Tony up.

God, of course Steve remembers him. After that thing with the – yeah, maybe not the time to recall awful ways to meet cute people.

Tony let out a vaguely “yeah”-sounding grunt, which was frankly more than what he expected of himself at that particular moment, thanks very much. He’s actually quite proud he got that out. Fuck, but this is turning out to be a really bad day, because of course Steve – gigantic, tall, incredibly muscley Steve – basically _Steve 2.0,_ practically _manhandled_ him up. He seemed to take Tony’s incoherence as an effect of his fall. His hand felt warm on Tony’s arms, and Tony’s never actually been manhandled quite like that, and he's surprised to find he doesn't really mind it and _nope, no thanks, not today, Satan._

“God, I can do it myself, Rogers,” Tony practically spits, shaking himself free.

He’s not sure why he’s so pissed, but it doesn't stop him from acting that way. He’s just had a rough start to his day, and he was running so hard he was getting dizzy, and now he had to deal with stupid Steve Rogers suddenly _being hot_ – again, he reminded himself that Steve’s always been hot. So maybe what was annoying Tony was that now Steve was hot _in everyone else’s eyes_ , and now everyone would want him, especially since he was still being annoyingly kind and helpful and _ugh_. No.

“I’m not some senior citizen you need to help across the damn street,” he added, because apparently he wanted the guy he had an embarrassing crush on to hate him.

Rogers puts his hands up, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Just trying to help,” he said, and his eyes flashed defensively, “no need to be a dick about it.”

The bell rang just as Tony was about to say something that, he was sure, was scathingly witty as much as it was grossly immature. Rogers adjusted his backpack strap on his stupid muscley shoulder (how the fuck can Tony even see his _shoulder muscles_ , how is that a _thing_ ), and walked past Tony without another word.

Tony just tried not to look after him. _Losing battle,_ he thought to himself as he heaved a frustrated sigh, _in more ways than one._

He’d managed to not only be late to Hill’s class (Tony 100% believe she could inflict actual physical pain with just a look), but also to piss off the last guy he’d ever want to piss off.

So far, so bad. Welcome to high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a rough outline of this going, and I've finished around 2 chapters so I'm going to try and update regularly (I'm optimistic, okay, haha). Feedback is very much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who comment, left kudos, and subscribed!! <3 You guys warm the deepest cockles of heart.
> 
> I'm going to try to keep each chapter around a thousand characters, but I'm cutting it up more according to story development so it could vary. Bear with me on this, lol.
> 
> Also, (belated, for my side of the world) happy Valentine's day!

Okay, so here’s how it happened. They were in elementary, and Tony and Rhodey were classmates in Math. It was toward the middle of the year, though, and it was getting harder and harder for the teacher to ignore how distracting they were together. If they were within five feet of each other, they would automatically start distracting each other from the lesson in the smallest or most subtle ways. They’d discreetly pass notes, make faces at each other, poke each other with different writing instruments, or kick each other under their table, among other things.

What made it tough for the teacher was that he and Rhodey had the top marks in class despite it all.

One fateful day (which they all saw coming), their teacher decided enough was enough and sat them apart from one another. That didn’t really help though – if anything, it made them even more distracting to the rest of the class because now they were communicating from a distance.

This eventually resulted in Tony making faces at Rhodey while the teacher’s back was turned. Rhodey was sniggering in his seat, trying to keep a straight face whenever the teacher turned around to check if they were still copying their problem sets.

But that particular day, Tony was _in it to win it._ He contorted his face into various shapes, expressions – basically, they weirder he felt, the more successful he probably was. He was fully into his little game until he heard a snigger come from a direction that _wasn’t_ Rhodey.

He looked to his right, and there he was, looking so incredibly frail that Tony wondered whether a light breeze might knock him over. His hair was parted on the right side, and combed down, making him look like the poster boy for good behavior. With his pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes, he might as well be. But his eyes were sparkling, and his hand was cupped around his mouth, trying to muffle his laughter.

He was so _cute._ Crap. Why hadn't Tony noticed him before?

Tony quickly righted himself and sat down properly, trying to tamper down his blush despite the heat he felt spreading behind his neck. Why hadn’t he looked around to check if anyone else was looking? God, and now the cute guy was laughing at him. Probably finding it ridiculous how ugly he looked making those faces. Oh god, how embarrassing.

He counted to five and turned to look back at Cute Guy, who was bent over his notebook as if nothing had happened.

 _Had_ nothing happened? Was Tony imagining it?

But then Cute Guy looked up at the blackboard, probably to check if he was copying correctly, and subsequently saw Tony looking. Tony’s eyes widened, terrified now that he’d been caught staring, but unable to move. Thanks, brain, good to know how he’d react in the middle of a threatening situation. Who needs fight or flight when you can have _freeze completely and be totally defenseless_?

But then Cute Guy smiled. 

All of Tony’s inner monologue about being terrified or awkward or embarrassed quickly folded up and deposited itself in the Recycle Bin of Tony’s brain, because _wow._

Tony forced himself to look away, his expression betraying nothing (thanks for the years of practice, Howard). He looked back at Rhodey, who was now looking at him questioningly. Tony shook his head and poised himself properly again, trying to ignore how the traitorous heat on his face now reached the tips of his ears.

He’d thought Cute Guy was _cute_ , sure, but he didn’t think about it _like that_. But then when he smiled, Tony couldn’t of anything _but_ that, and wow, he didn’t even know he liked boys like that, and this was a lot to take in. Not that he had any problems with being gay or bi or liking people of the same sex, he just didn’t know it applied to _him_.

He snuck another glance at Cute Guy.

Yep. Never mind. It totally applied to him.

 

 

 

 

The morning improved slightly. Just slightly though, because even though he was happily surprised that he apparently shared a class with Pepper, she kept ignoring Tony’s attempts to talk to her. She looked straight in front at the blackboard and diligently took notes – during _orientation_. Who even does that?

It was only during their Lunch Period when he and Rhodey and Pepper finally got some time to talk.

“Tony, dude, you’re not usually this quiet,” Rhodey said after talking about how his dad brought him to the Airforce base and how excited Rhodey was to see what his dad did at work. It honestly sounded pretty cool, and Tony would have loved to hear about it if he weren’t still so preoccupied about Steve goddamn Rogers. “It’s kind of freaking me out.”

Pepper sighed when Tony continued keeping quiet. “Come on, you’ve been trying to tell me all through English – don’t think I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose. Out with it.”

But Tony wasn’t even listening to them anymore. His eyes, much like most people in the cafeteria, were all on Big, Blond, and Blue-Eyed as he entered through the opposite entrance of the hall. Not that Tony wanted to be overly dramatic about this, but _goddamn_ , just seeing him made Tony's stomach churn. He could feel a steady heat rising from the pit of this gut, and he felt inexplicably pissed and turned on all at once _._ Because of course Rogers could jumble up his feelings like that without even trying. Fucking Rogers.

Flanking him on both sides were his usual posse or whatever they were. He was facing Bucky Barnes, who apparently cut his hair over the summer, and was now sporting a short crop not unlike Tony's, if a little shorter. The corner of his mouth was lifted, as if he just told some stupid joke. Rogers was laughing rather generously, oblivious to the room's stares. (His stupid eyes were crinkled up, his mouth was open, and Tony's had one class with Barnes before and he seemed like a nice enough guy, but damn if Tony didn't hate him with a burning passion right now.) Behind them were Natasha Romanoff, who was as attractive as she was frightening, and some tall, dark-skinned, and vaguely muscular guy Tony didn't know.

Rhodey let out a low whistle, shaking Tony out of his casual observations ( _not_ creepy stalking, thanks very much). Rhodey and Pepper had followed Tony's line of sight and seen what literally everyone else in the cafeteria was looking at. Even Pepper, who was the most unshakeable of them all, had her jaw slack slightly as she took the image in.

“Oh my god,” she turned to Tony, putting a palm between his shoulder blades, “Oh, Tony,” she said sympathetically.

This only served to make Tony even more defensive. “What ‘oh, Tony’? There’s nothing to ‘oh, Tony’ about. I mean, sure, he’s changed, like… a little –” Now even Rhodey was eyeing him with something dangerously close to pity. “—but that’s fine. Completely and totally fine, I’m so glad for him. He’s not just some determined pipsqueak anymore.”

Tony was proud of how stable he sounded when he said that. Proud of how even his voice was, though in his mind all he could think was _but he was_ my _determined pipsqueak._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tony's really taking Steve's transformation to heart!
> 
> Again, if you spot any typos or errors, feel free to point 'em out so I can edit :D Feedback is appreciated!
> 
> ETA 02/17: Forgot to add! The prompt I saw for this chapter was something along the lines of "I saw you making stupid faces and you looked so cute even though you were embarrassed," though I took the liberty of writing it from the other side, lol.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got barely any writing done this week because real life has been extra busy. Thankfully, I wrote this in advance. Yay to sticking to schedules!

Two weeks into school and Tony had somehow managed to avoid seeing Rogers except for Chem class, which they had in common. Still, even if Chemistry wasn’t Tony’s favorite science, Mr. Banner made it more than interesting. He clearly knew what he was doing, which was enough to earn Tony’s respect. He didn’t even need to feign his interest in class to avoid looking at or making eye contact with Rogers. Certainly an achievement.

Tony smiled to himself as he walked toward his locker. Today was one of the few days he was actually early to school and had the luxury of locker time. As he unlocked it, he noted happily that neither Pep nor Rhodey were in school yet.

_Take that_ , he thought triumphantly. He took out his phone and texted them an incredibly mature and even-tempered “FIRST!” to let them know he was waiting for them.

He was in the process of inserting a couple of self-righteous emojis when someone practically knocked the wind out of him by punching him right between his shoulder blades.

The impact stunned him into immobility for a second – just enough time for the offender, who was either oblivious to Tony's reaction or wanting to cause him more discomfort, to put an arm around Tony's shoulders. A very warm, very _muscular_ arm. To add insult to injury, he was laughing like a fucking psychopath.

Tony shook off the guy's grip. “ _Excuse me_ , what the fuck do you –”

He was countered with Rogers’ (not breathtaking, thanks, Tony was just a bit dizzy from being _tackled_ ) smile, which instantly dropped upon seeing Tony. It shouldn't have surprised him how attractive it was, even thought it was there for all of one second. It was Rogers' smile, after all, that attracted Tony in the first place.

“Ah, sorry –” Rogers reacted like he’d been _burned_ , instantly letting go of Tony. He had this horrible look on his face, like he’d really done it now. Only he would be that apologetic over a minor accident like this, Tony thought. Or maybe, his brain quite helpfully contributed, Rogers was more sorry he had even touched or associated himself with Tony that way than anything else. “Thought you were – well,” Rogers continued, and Tony could physically feel him try to fight the blush staining his cheeks, “a friend.”

Tony didn’t expect that to sting, and rightly so because it shouldn’t have. He and Rogers – okay, first of all, he still called him _Rogers._ And aside from that stupid smiling they’d shared during that one period in the 8 th grade (or rather, Rogers smiled and Tony freaked out), they hadn’t really had much contact with each other… well, ever. There was never really any reason to initiate contact. Or, more honestly, there was never any _excuse_ to. Tony was really too much of a coward to have initiated any contact without some sort of lame excuse for it.

“Sure,” Tony said instead, trying to shut his brain up. “I suppose you tackle all your friends like that as some sort of greeting,” he added unnecessarily and cursed himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, more for want of something to do than because of any sort of physical pain.

Rogers grinned a bit, looking far too attractive for it. “It was hardly a _tackle_ ,” he said, and Tony would gladly say more stupid things to keep even just that half-smile on Rogers' face.

“Oh, well, sorry I'm so _weak_. We can’t all shoot up 18 thousand feet and grow muscles in all the right places,” Tony said.

And then heard. And then instantly regretted.  _Shitshitshit._ Okay, play it off. Make a joke. _Fuck._  

“Like some steroid-fueled golden retriever.”

Why the fuck did Tony even have a mouth. It should be illegal for him to talk for forever and always.

Rogers was looking at him a little strangely, his head cocked a bit to one side ( _Golden retriever!_ Tony’s brain helpfully supplied) when someone shouted “Hey, punk!” from behind Rogers.

Tony recognized Barnes' voice a split second before he _literally_ tackled Rogers from behind, trapping Rogers' head under his arm to give him a noogie. An actual _noogie_. In the twenty-first century. They were obviously very close, not that Tony took note of who Rogers was close with and not or anything. Whatever.

Rogers was play-struggling, his half-grin from a while ago now a full-on smile as he laughed through the noogie. 

“Bucky, get off!” he said, still with the stupid grin. Tony tried not to think about it too much.

Barnes continued giving Rogers a noogie, which set off a fresh set of play-struggling, and yeah, Tony _really_ wasn’t in the mood for this. He didn’t even know who or what pissed him off the most at this point.

“Whatever,” he said, suddenly feeling inexplicably pissed – ah, yes, more familiar emotional territory. He rolled his eyes and turned back to his long-forgotten locker.

“Oh,” Barnes looked up, like he’d only then realized Rogers had been talking to someone. Weirdly enough, his eyes widened and he grinned full-on, baring his teeth in a somewhat creepy fashion. “ _Oh,”_ he said again, meaningfully looking at Rogers this time, “Great! Okay, I’ll just –”

“No, it’s not –” Rogers began hastily, like being associated with Tony was the worst thing he could think of. Tony’s embarrassment quickly morphed into humiliation, and yeah, he didn’t particularly need that vote of confidence just then, thanks.

“Tony! There you are,” Pepper, angel that she was, materialized beside Tony. “We were just –” she saw Rogers, and visibly tried to reign in her reaction, “Oh! Right. Well then –”

“Yeah, we’re going,” Tony hastily took Pepper’s arm and led her off, ignoring Rogers’ little frown and Bucky smacking him in the head.

Rogers’ resounding ‘ _ow_ ’ was enough to lighten his mood a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this was "I accidentally thought you were my friend so I hugged you from behind." :D It's so fun to write Tony's emotions, haha.
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated! :)


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this ready a few weeks in advance, but I was so sleepy while I was editing it to be published, I decided it would be better to update a day late instead of putting up something I hadn't fully edited yet. And there were a _lot_ of edits. Hahaha. This is a bit longer than usual, so hopefully that makes up for it!
> 
> Thanks as always to everyone who left kind words, subscribed, and left kudos! :D

Tony almost made it a whole week without any Rogers-related incidents, which he counted as a Definite Win. He'd managed to control himself (from doing what, he didn't even know) whenever he saw Rogers with his group, despite Barnes throwing weird looks at him every now and then.

Rogers was the talk of the school for a while, and Tony pointedly ignored how popular he had suddenly become – from the roses that made him blush when he opened his locker, to queues of girls and some brave boys tripping over themselves trying to talk to him and get his number.

Tony was mum on the subject for a while, something which Rhodey and Pepper were tactful enough not to point out.

As quiet as he was on the outside though, Tony's insides were a jumble of emotions. On one hand, he was positively _seething_ at anyone who seemed even remotely interested in Rogers and his looks, which was basically everyone. On the other, he was pissed at himself because he _knew_ he had no claim over Rogers aside from the childish "I was there first!" It was irrationality at its finest, but he couldn't control the actual physical sensation of his gut churning whenever he heard people talking about Rogers and how _fine_ he was.

Still, if there was one thing Tony was good at, it was ignoring his feelings. Not only was his crush embarrassing in the sense that he was totally gone for Rogers based on almost nothing but his stupid smile, but it was embarrassing how hopeless it was. Sure, Rogers knew his name, but that's probably the extent of the overlap of their worlds. Tony's affection wasn't just unrequited - it existed on a totally different plane of being from its object.

So, really, Tony didn't even have to think about whether he should tell Rogers or not.

He knew his objectives: avoid direct contact with Rogers, ignore his feelings, and get over his embarrassing crush on the guy. In that order. To do this, Tony focused all his energy on schoolwork and his friends, namely Rhodey and Pepper. He worked on special extra-curricular projects for Banner's class, and he helped out Pepper when she decided to try her hand at being the Journalism Club freshman representative (whatever that was). It was also why he was now in the school gym, accompanying Rhodey to Basketball varsity tryouts.

They were a little early, so Rhodey was getting in a few practice shots.

"Watch out now," Tony teased as Rhodey missed a second free throw, "you keep throwing like that and they won't even let you be the water boy."

Rhodey glared at him, though it was without heat. "So I'm a little rusty. Not like you're any better."

"Ha! You bet your ass I am," Tony bluffed, just for the heck of it. He knew shit about basketball. He hasn't even touched one in his life.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." Rhodey called his bluff, dribbling the ball while turning to face Tony. "Best two out of three." 

Tony stared at him, and then laughed. "What's in it for me?"

"If you win, I'll trade you my lunch for a week."

Tony's eyes widened – Rhodey's mom made the _best_ lunches, and it was really only sheer politeness that stopped Tony from asking for one himself daily. "A month." 

"Fine, a month," Rhodey said easily. "But if I win, you have to talk to Rogers."

Tony spluttered indignantly. That settled it, he was going to get new friends. "I need new friends."

Rhodey only laughed his indignation off. "It only matters if you think you're gonna lose," he said, a corner of his mouth quirking up in a challenge.

Tony huffed, but bent down to secure his shoe laces. He was many things, but a quitter wasn't one of them.

Now, Tony wasn't some limp noodle by any means. He actually tried to train over the summer, even though a total of zero people noticed thanks to Mr. Sudden Muscles on Muscles ( _stop thinking about him!_ ). Still, Tony has never really been into any sport – which is to say, he was absolute shit at them. Oh, he was competitive, but his tool was his brain and his dashing quick wit (shut up, Pepper). But it shouldn't be too hard, right? Just try to get the ball into the net.

Given his track record with the universe, though, Tony really should've known better.

Rhodey agreed to let Tony shoot first, probably correctly guessing he'd be shit at it. Tony clumsily lifted the ball above his head. How did basketball players even look when they were shooting the ball? Probably not as stupid as Tony did right then. Well, whatever.

Just as he was about to throw the ball, a splash of blond hair caught his attention as it appeared at the gym entrance near the hoop stand.

Which was when everything went to hell.

Tony's throwing posture, which was already awful to begin with, was made even worse when he got distracted by Rogers' presence. To prevent himself from further embarrassment by what he knew would be a crap throw accuracy-wise, Tony instinctively compensated by throwing the ball harder and trying to throw it farther away.

Bad idea when the guy you're trying to impress is a few feet away from where you're aiming.

The ball almost comically went straight for Rogers' face. He'd just set down his bag and was texting, head bent down. He literally didn't see it coming.

"Watch out!" Rhodey shouted.

Tony could only watch in horror (again, thanks for that fight or flight response, genetics) as Rogers looked up from his phone, eyes widening in surprise. It was too late though, and the ball smacked him right on the nose with a terrifying crunch.

"Mother _fucker._ " Tony ran toward Rogers, Rhodey right behind him.

"Shit," Rhodey said when Rogers looked up. His face actually didn't look too bad (or maybe that was just Tony's bias showing), but a steady stream of blood was oozing out of his nose. Still, Tony could only stare in mute horror.

Rogers blinked owlishly. His hand came up to touch his nose. "Ow."

This broke Tony's horrified trance. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm so fucking sorry, holy shit…"

Rogers stared up at him, his eyes registering his surroundings. "To – Stark," he said, as if he'd just seen him for the first time.

Tony continued letting out a stream of apologies coated heavily in swear words. He dug out a handkerchief from his pocket, checking to see if it was clean. "Here, use this first."

"Thanks."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry –"

"What happened here?"

Ah, shit. There was Barton, along with about a dozen guys who were probably trying out for the basketball team as well.

"Wilson, come over here."

The dark-skinned guy Tony saw with Rogers before – Wilson, he registered in his head – came over.

" _Shit_ ," Wilson said before he could help himself. "What happened?" Wilson's eyes landed on Tony, and where Tony expected him to be angry or defensive on Rogers' behalf, Wilson instead barked out a laugh. "You're something else, Steve."

Rogers, for his part, only glared at Wilson. What a weird exchange. Especially considering Rogers' face was bleeding.

Fuck, he did that. He messed up on a monumental scale.

"Hi, I'm Sam Wilson," the guy said amiably, reaching a hand out at Tony. Why the fuck was he being friendly?

Tony only shook his hand out of reflex. "Uhm," he said dumbly, still trying to process recent events.

"Tony Stark, right?"

"Uh."

"Tony can't _words_ right now," Rhodey filled in. "Maybe not for a while. I'm James Rhodes. Call me Rhodey." He shook Sam's hand when he reached it out. "Nice to meet you, Sam."

"I'd say the same, but my friend here probably thinks otherwise," Wilson – _Sam_ joked, nodding his head at Rogers, who Barton was checking for bumps and other bruises when he fell.

"I really am sorry," Tony said, for the record.

Sam only grinned at him.

"Touching as this all is, you can make friends later," that was Barton again, standing up from checking Rogers. "Wilson, bring Rogers to the infirmary. He seems okay, but he should probably get checked just in case." Sam nodded, and went over to Rogers. "You," Barton addressed Rhodey, "Are you trying out?"

"Yes, coach."

"Good. You," he looked at Tony, "better not be."

Tony's not sure how it happened, but next thing he knew, he was sitting on the bleachers, watching as Rhodey aced his tryouts (was he faking missing the free throw earlier?), but not really paying attention. His brain was still processing the fact that _he'd literally bloodied up the guy he had an embarrassing crush on._ In an attempt to _impress_ him too.

What even was Tony's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Shit, sorry I hit you in the face with a basketball." Hahaha.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated! ^_^


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on schedule! ... For now.

Tony loved Bruce.

Yeah, they'd been talking long enough now that he'd gone from calling him Mr. Banner to Banner and now, much to Bruce's chagrin, Bruce. Tony liked to think of it as Bruce's way of showing affection for his number one student.

Tony had spent the past few weeks throwing himself at academics at every opportunity, trying to ignore not only the embarrassment of his almost maiming Rogers with a basketball, but the untoward pressure Howard was now putting on him.

 _Finish high school early so you can go to college early, Tony. So you're number one in all your regular classes, but why haven't you inspired the school to create advanced classes, Tony, aren't you smart enough._  Why don't you build a fucking rocket ship, Tony, and explore a vast mythological kingdom where the buildings are made of gold and there's a bridge made of a goddamn rainbow. Freaking Howard.

Tony blocked those thoughts – as much as Howard was a dick, he was a harmless one. Tony would continue being a star student, and just try to graduate on time without having Howard pressure the school into letting him graduate earlier. He just had to focus on his studies.

Which is why Tony was here now, seated in the Chem lab after school hours, mixing a bunch of chemicals together on Bruce's orders. It was fun, learning from someone who actually knew more than Tony did about the subject. He also had an excuse not to go home as soon as school ended.

And an excuse not to think of Rogers too much.

Not that it helped with the incident last week, involving Rogers, and red and yellow dye. He'd been hilariously apologetic over it, of course. His face was almost as red as the dye itself. He was probably embarrassed, being such a klutz despite all the muscle he'd gained. The dye had gotten all over Tony's lab coat, though miraculously (thankfully) they didn't mix together to form a bright orange. Tony didn't look so good in orange. In the end, his lab coat had looked ridiculous, but he made it work. Regina George would've been proud.

Tony fiddled with the hem of his coat, which was a striking neon yellow. He'd bought a new lab coat for the regular class, but he decided to keep this one for the after-hours class with Bruce. 

As if on cue, Bruce walked back into the lab, carrying a clipboard. Tony didn't feel up to talking, recalling how Rogers had stumbled over himself and how Tony had handled the situation so carelessly, telling Rogers he should dye his coat red and blue to match his perfect All-American persona. He should really work on his brain-to-mouth filter.

Bruce held up one of the beakers at eye-level for inspection. The once brown liquid was now a pale blue. "Aren't you going to get rid of that?" He put the beaker down and turned off the heat source, turning to look at Tony. "Or at least bleach it?"

"No," Tony grumbled, knowing Bruce was referring to his lab coat. 

Bruce fixed him with a measuring stare, and then took out a test tube rack with some test tubes in it from under the lab table. He poured some of the pale blue liquid into each test tube silently, as Tony just looked on, still absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his coat.

Tony saw Bruce's eyes shift to his hands then back to the test tubes. "Feeling sentimental?"

"No," he repeated, trying and failing not to say it defensively. He felt his face heat, and immediately stopped touching the hem. "What would I be sentimental about? Just because I'm a teenager doesn't mean all I think about is stuff like that. I have other problems, you know. Teenage angst and all that," Tony rambled, "Anyway, it's already ruined and I don't want to dirty up another coat during our after-school projects, so I mean, why not use this monstrosity?"

Bruce was quiet for a while, which made Tony want to fiddle with the hem of his coat again. Then he started rifling through a small box of lab supplies. "Well, I'm always here if you need someone to listen to your, ah," his lip quirked up as he brought out a test tube holder, " _teenage angst._ "

"Here," he continued, handing Tony the instrument before he could respond even more defensively, "make yourself useful, and swirl each tube around until the color changes."

Tony blinked, wondering if he'd just been offered to be listened to by an actual adult. He'd make a quip, but thought twice, knowing Bruce was somewhat recluse and wouldn't have offered if he didn't mean it. They both looked at the test tube, watching for any change. Bruce took careful notes of the changes and time records.

Tony held out the test tube out at arm's length, careful to have it face away from him and Bruce in case of spillage. He tried not to notice the red hand prints on his arm from where Rogers had grabbed him, but felt a small pang of guilt all the same.

"Okay," he said, avoiding eye contact with Bruce by watching the pale blue liquid clear up and turn transparent. A little bit of precipitation formed and settled at the bottom of the test tube. "Maybe a little bit sentimental."

Bruce looked up from scribbling his notes, and smiled.

 

 

 

 

Tony _hated_ Bruce. 

So much.

How he'd gotten from maybe kind of having a heart-to-heart with Bruce, to _this_ , he'd never know.

 _This_ , of course, being that he was standing in front of the teacher's table in Chem class, hissing at Bruce through gritted teeth, and trying to ignore the prickle of Rogers' (probably) wounded stare at the back of his neck.

" _Bruce_ ," he hissed again, hoping maybe the additional hiss at the _s_ sound might get his point across, "you can't do this."

Bruce looked up from writing his annoying fake notes on his stupid record book. "First of all, stop calling me that, especially during class hours. We've talked about this," he fixed Tony with a disciplining look, which almost worked until he continued, "And what do you mean I can't do this? I'm not doing anything," he smiled an annoyingly calm smile, "and if I _was_ doing anything, like pairing you up with _Mr. Rogers_ –" he said it loudly to get Rogers' attention, crooking a finger toward the table in what was undoubtedly an evil scheme to get Tony to stop talking, "for the most important project of the term, it would totally be in my power to do so as your teacher. So!" He flashes a smile a Rogers materializes beside Tony. "Partners."

Tony tried not to glare at  _Mr. Banner_ 's shit-eating grin. 

"Is there a problem, sir?" Rogers looks at Tony, a little confused.

"No, no problem. Tony here was just registering some concern for your ... combination." 

"Oh." Tony pretends his can't hear the hurt in Rogers' tone and pointedly does not turn or make eye contact. "Well, if To – I mean, if Stark would rather partner with someone else, it's fine by me."

Feeling more and more awkward by the second, Tony took a (louder than necessary) deep breath to get Rogers to stop talking. Bruce had him at a stalemate – he couldn't say anything now without drawing unwanted attention to them, and he couldn't have the pairings changed next meeting because everyone will have worked on something with their current partners already. 

Fine. It was just one project anyway. Even if it _was_ the most important one. The two of them could work on it in one quick burst and not see each other for the rest of the term. Tony could probably even work on it alone. Genius and all that.

He turned to Rogers, trying to go for a reassuring smile. "Hey, no, it's no problem at all," he said and added, belatedly and so a bit awkwardly, "partner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ACTUAL PLOT?!?! Hahahaha. 
> 
> This is the last chapter I have pre-written, soooo we'll see if I can stick to my schedule of posting every Monday, lmao. I already have a rough outline of how the rest of the story will go, so fingers crossed I have time to actually write it!
> 
> Feedback is welcome as always! Also let me know if there are any typos or tenses I missed, hehe. Thanks! ♥
> 
> ETA: Forgot to say, I made a tumblr account [here at cable-wires](http://cable-wires.tumblr.com/) ^_^ I'll post some drabbley things there and we can talk and stuff yay!


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH you guys. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long. It was just a really bad case of writer's block, and I've been busy with work and Adulting (ugh). While I have a general outline prepared, like I said, I'm still seriously considering where specifically to go from here, because there really is a world of possibilities!
> 
> Anyway, here's a slightly longer chapter to make up for the long wait. Hope you enjoy! :)

"This is stupid," Tony whined.

Pepper had spent the last half-hour playing dress-up, and Tony was quickly feeling like a toy doll in both body and spirit for the amount clothes Pepper has made him try on. It took most of his self-control not to moan that it's not like Rogers was going to notice _anyway_.

The combined stress from how poorly he handled the situation with Rogers during Chem, the idea that he would actually have to _work_ with him _regularly_ for the big project, and the fact that they were meeting after school  _the very next day_ all worked together fantastically to make Tony's already overactive imagination spiral out of control. He was now convinced Rogers secretly hated and resented him, had dyed his lab coat on purpose to get back at him for the basketball thing, and was probably currently talking to Br – no, you know what, for all the shit he's pulled, Tony's demoting him back to  _Mr. Banner_ – out of pairing them together. Well, Rogers can try (god knows Tony has), but Banner sure as hell isn't going to budge. Still, confident as he was in Banner's stubbornness, part of him wished Steve didn't hate him enough to actually try and get out of being partners with him.

"Of course not," Pepper said easily, succeeding in responding to Tony's complaint and shaking him out of his downward spiral. She eyed Tony critically, in a way that, if he hadn't known Pepper as long as he had, would make him self-conscious. As it was, he was just feeling more and more exasperated. "This is a guy you've been crushing on –" _pathetically_ was heavily implied but unsaid, "– since _grade school_ , Tony. You might not get another chance like this. You might as well make yourself presentable."

"What she's saying is that you're too stubborn to talk to Rogers yourself," Rhodey chimed in from the bed. He was playing on his phone but he somehow sounded as invested as Pepper. "Just take advantage of the opportunity and try and look like a human being for once."

"You guys sure know how to encourage a guy," Tony said dryly. Still, he couldn't help but appreciate the fact that he had Rhodey and Pepper on his side. He'd hate to imagine a world where he had no one who cared about him as much as they did, a world where he'd have to panic over his wardrobe on his own. It sounded stupid, but he _was_ pathetically grateful to have them here, fawning over him and distracting him from his anxiety. "I'm so lucky to have friends like you."

Didn't stop him from saying that sarcastically, though.

"What's lucky is that Banner paired you up with Rogers," Rhodey said. Pepper made a sound of agreement from behind a pile of clothing she was rummaging through.

Tony scoffed. " _Lucky,_ right. You know this is all part of his devious plot. He's all calm and zen in the face of noisy high schoolers, but the man's plotty and cunning underneath it all."

He'd told Rhodey and Pepper all about how Bruce had paired him and Rogers up on purpose, though he was pretty disappointed when they were relieved instead of indignant on his behalf.

"Thank god there's someone on your side who actually has the power to do something about this," Pepper had said.

"Yeah, 'cause it's _so_ evil of him to try and get you and your teenage dream together," Rhodey said presently. Tony could practically hear him roll his eyes.

"Put this jacket on," Pepper said just as Tony chimed, "He is _not_ my teenage –" 

She made a slow sound of approval as Tony, still grumbling slightly, shrugged the blue jacket on. She gave him a once-over to check it against the rest of his outfit. "Perfect."

Rhodey looked up from his game and grinned. "There you go. Knew there was an actual human in there somewhere."

"Fuck you," Tony said, turning and checking himself out from the back on his full-length mirror. "Damn, my ass looks great in these."

It wouldn't change Rogers' probable dislike of him, but at least Tony would feel confident while he talked with him.

 

 

 

 

Tony did not at feel confident.

Sure, he felt fine while waiting at the quad for Rogers that afternoon, maybe even a little calmer. Like a citizen on the street during one of those natural disaster movies, accepting their fate as a giant wave crashed onto the pavement where they stood.

Of course, giant waves caused by global warming didn't look quite as visually stunning as Steve Rogers in a button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves and tight-fitting pants. He broke into a light jog when he spotted Tony, which only served to highlight his… muscles.

"Good grief," Tony couldn't help but whisper as Rogers sat down in front of him.

Apparently Rogers had some sort of super hearing because he froze for a second in the act of sitting down, a slight pink tinging his cheeks. "Sorry," he mumbled, sitting down. "I slept late, so I woke up late. Were you waiting long?"

Tony thanked the universe Rogers took his comment that way. He also decided not to dwell on the first part of Rogers' statement, which may or may not have implied that he was getting laid. "No, just a couple of minutes," he said, shaking his head like an idiot. Who the fuck still shook their heads nowadays anyway?

"Oh, good." Rogers flashed him one of his dazzling smiles, which Tony was totally unprepared for. God, but if this was going to be happening more often, and at this proximity, Tony was definitely done for. (He couldn't even begin to _focus_ on the fact that he could smell Rogers. That was verging on creepy and if Tony was being honest with himself, incredibly pathetic, even by his usual standards.)

Best to just get things started. Tony took out his tablet, where he'd charted some ideas the night before. Rogers wasn't the only one up late last night - though if Rogers  _was_ getting laid, Tony's reason was just sadder. He pushed past the sudden heaviness at his gut. "So, Rogers –"

"Ah, hey," Rogers stopped him, his cheeks still slightly pink. As always, Tony tried not to think too much about it, "about that. Would it be okay if you called me Steve?"

"Oh," Tony said dumbly. The heaviness in his gut lifted, replaced by something more fluttery Tony couldn't explain.

"It's just that we're going to be working together a lot, and I figure, it'll be weird if we keep talking on a last-name basis, you know?"

"Right," Tony continued, apparently regressing to monosyllabic answers. He decided to test it out. "No problem, Steve."

It felt simultaneously strange on his lips, but at the same time like it belonged there somehow. That was stupid, right? Names don't find homes on other people's lips, not in the least because names don't take shelter in body parts. And more to the point that if they did, Steve's name would probably find a much better home than Tony's lips. And wow, this was all taking a strange turn in Tony's head. 

The visual effect was instant, though. He'd never seen anyone go from unsure to practically lit up in such a short period of time. That stupid smile of Ro – _Steve_ 's, all teeth and eyes, like Tony had done him some favor by saying his name. This was so bad.

This was so bad.

Tony offered a tentative smile back. It came surprisingly naturally considering how it now felt like a handful of elephant-sized butterflies were thumping around his stomach. "You can call me Tony."

"Tony. Great," Rogers – _Steve_ – continued to smile at him, and, no, it was stupid to feel that Tony's name also sounded like it belonged on Steve's lips. _Okay,_ abandoning that train of thought. Steve's lips were a bad topic to dwell on _while he was right there._

Still, hearing Tony's name on his lips simultaneously made him feel like the elephant butterflies were now flying somewhat successfully but still thumping around. Now they were inside his chest.

He looked down at his tablet to open the file with his ideas, and glanced at the clock. Less than 5 minutes had passed since they started talking.

This project was going to be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prompt/trope for this one. It's just fun to write awkward teenage romance! Hahaha.
> 
> As always, you can find my tumblr [here](http://cable-wires.tumblr.com) :)


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